“Canna go or would rather not go?”
Once again, Inalfi studied her, as she often did, Emily had noticed. It had occurred to her on more than one occasion that she was kind of like some sort of science project for the Fae maid—like growing an unknown substance in a Petri dish to see what it turned out to be.
“I canna go, my lady,” Inalfi said. “I have the bloodline of a commoner.”
“What?”
“Only those of the royal court or their descendants may travel through the Dreaming and visit the worlds and times the Highland Veil separates.”
“Then how am I supposed to be able to get in there? I am a mortal with no Fae blood at all.”
“But ye have bonded with Himself, the son of Queen Nicnevin—and ye have the divine blood of a Weaver in yer ancestry. Did ye not say yer grandmam was a Spell Weaver?”
“My great great grandmother was a Spell Weaver.” Emily finished tying her boots, then pulled her cellphone from her pocket. “I won’t be needing this.” She tossed it onto the bedside table, then arched a brow at Inalfi. “You’ve seen how talented I am when it comes to magic. How many times have you gone running for the water pitcher to put out the fires?”
Inalfi lifted her chin higher and assumed a lofty demeanor. “Not that many. And they’ve not been nearly as bad as they were. I think ye are improving…somewhat.”
“I still wish you could go with me. You are kind of like my safety net here.”
“Safety net?” The maid gingerly scooped up the cell phone, holding it at arm’s length between her thumb and index finger as if it were either dipped in something nasty or might explode. “Is that good or bad?” she asked as she placed the phone back in the trunk and slammed the lid shut before it escaped.
“A safety net is a good thing. You explain things to me and help me fit in so I don’t have to embarrass myself by asking Gryffe.”
Inalfi smiled and bowed her head. “I can but try, my lady. Yer happiness brings all of us joy.” She slid her focus to the great cat purring beside Emily. “Yer Grimalkin can go with ye. Her kind guard the Fae Court and go anywhere they wish.”
“You want to go into the Dreaming with me?” Emily asked the panther that was lazily flexing its front paws as if kneading biscuits.
Eyes barely open, Grimalkin yawned, revealing her lethal set of fangs. Then she trilled another purring meow and closed her eyes completely. Her kneading paws slowly went still, and her purring faded, as she drifted into a deeper sleep.
“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” Emily told the napping cat. Still unable to assess what time it was by the length of the shadows on the floor, she nodded at the window. “When exactly is moonrise?”
“When the moon takes the sun’s place in the sky,” Inalfi said with a rueful look.
“Yeah…I suppose that title was pretty self-explanatory. Sorry. I guess I’m nervous.” Emily hopped off the edge of the bed and went to the door. “I’m going to find Gryffe. Do you want me to take Grimalkin with me, or are you all right with her in here?” She had noticed Inalfi always gave the cat a wide berth.
“Take her, if ye dinna mind.” Inalfi sidled away from the bed while keeping her gaze locked on the beast. “I’ll get better with her. I swear, I will. I need but a wee bit more time.”
“She is a big cat. I understand completely.” Emily made a kissing sound to rouse the lazy panther from its nap. “Come on, Grimalkin. Let’s find Gryffe.” The feline remained sound asleep. She opened the door. As soon as the hinges creaked, the ebony beast leapt from the bed with her ears perked and the tip of her tail twitching.
As they walked down the hallway, Emily noticed the large panther made a soft huffing grunt with every fluid step of her graceful march. It made Emily smile as she trailed her fingers down the cat’s broad head and muscular shoulders. Even on all fours, Grimalkin’s back was even with Emily’s hip.
“You sound like a steam train chugging along,” she told the cat.
Grimalkin answered with a long, low, almost clicking growl that sounded more affectionate than threatening.
“I wonder where Gryffe is? He was lagging back so I wouldn’t have to listen to him and his mother spatting.” Emily found it perfectly natural to think out loud to the furry shadow walking at her side. But it surprised her when Grimalkin responded with a perky trilling and took off at a faster trot.
“Hey—wait!” Thank heavens she had changed into her old clothes that were better suited to chasing after a determined panther. She loped after the great cat, following it down the spiral stairs to the main floor and into the great hall. The clansmen and servants filling the room went unnaturally quiet before several gasped and even a few shrieked as the great cat moved among them. Grimalkin halted, lifted her head, then sniffed the air, her gleaming black nostrils flexing in the torchlight.
“It’s all right,” Emily told one and all, wondering if they would even hear her since they were frozen either in shock at the sight of her strange clothes or in fear of the Fae cat. She decided to go with the cat theory. “She won’t hurt you. She’s helping me find Gryffe...uhm…I mean…the chieftain.” My, my, didn’t she sound efficient and ready to accept the responsibility of helping her husband lead the clan? “Does anyone know where Himself might be?”
“Library…my lady,” one of the nearest servants said, a lad who squeaked like he was trapped in the throes of puberty. As he pointed in that direction, he bobbed his head so many times, it was a wonder he didn’t fall over from dizziness.
“Thank you.” Emily patted her leg. “Come on, Grimalkin. He’s in the library.”
The panther gave her a disinterested glance, then sauntered closer to the nearest table, causing those sitting on the benches beside it to scatter.
“Grimalkin—come along now. You’re scaring them, and that’s not nice.”
